Don't Be A Hero
by YourHead
Summary: Luna Loud is born to be wild the 70's, the old times of flower power, Woodstock and the Vietnam War. Even though she's a hippie gal, she finds herself serving for the WAC, and soon going to the vietnamese jungle. One-shot based on a stupid meme. Not for kids.


Don't be a Hero

A Loud House Fanfiction

"Hey, that's not too bad! I knew you could play, but never thought you were that good".

"Thanks, mate. I used to play a lot back home".

"It's a wonder there's a guitar here, eh?"

"Yeah, how did it got here, anyways? It needed some tuning, but now each string is heaven".

"I remember that song... That's Creedence, right?"

"Good ear, lad!"

"Heh… Don't you think this isn't the best place to play it, though?"

"Eh, don't worry Chunk. Not like ol' Nixon can hear us in the middle of the jungle, right?".

Luna didn't remember very well the circumstances that got her into 'Nam in the first place. She remembers volunteering to help in the war efforts at some point. She kinda felt pressured into it. Maybe her parents, maybe social pressure against her more... "free" and "loving" way of life up until then. Or maybe she felt the need to help people, even if war wasn't something she liked. Maybe she went because of a boy who got drafted. A dead boy.

She was proficient with telecommunications, so she got there first as a radio operator for the army nurses. Mostly office work. Calling for supplies to Uncle Sam, getting a message and passing it on to the higher-ups: how many dudes to aid, how many to bag, how many gooks shot. That last bit didn't matter to the nurses, but the operator on the other side of the line really hated them.

However, they really needed someone who could manage all those gadgets over there, and Uncle Sam wasn't very responsive with that one ragtag squad of brits that got involved, for whatever reason. Technically, as far as Luna knew, the UK wasn't part of the war. She isn't that surprised though, for sure some secret deals happened that made some extra-official group to go there. The american sergeant wanted a man from the US in the radio, but he was satisfied with at least a woman. And so she came to be in the middle of Vietnam's arse. Or something like that. She didn't really know, or particularly cared. War's war, anywhere she'd be.

Not many of the guys were nice to her. Chunk was. Big guy, thick accent, one that kinda stuck to her. She never asked really why he got there, he never brought it up. It was better for them to keep it a little separate. When everything ended, he'd go back to Liverpool, she'd go back to Michigan. They'd never see each other again. But music kept them united, and Chunk helped her out, so the rest of the boys wouldn't be a nuisance.

"Miss Loud!" Both pals heard from one of the squad men, calling from the hut's door, "You're needed in the training field!".

"What?" She asked, weirded out. Why'd she be called to that place?

"Just come quick, Miss. You too, uh...".

He couldn't remember his name. Nobody used to. He was Chunk, nothing else.

"Yeah I'll go", He says, relaxed. "Come gal, this might be important".

"Sure, sure".

Luna leaves the guitar over a table, as they go to the field Everyone was neatly ordered in a straight line, waiting to enter with Chunk and the girl. Luna didn't see a reason for her to be there, but orders are orders, right? The other boys looked at her, some in disbelief, others annoyed, one other a bit sad. She couldn't imagine why would they look at her like that. She saw Chunk whispering with another guy, his relaxed expression changing with one of concern. Luna managed to hear him asking "why?", only to be answered with a shrug.

The sergeant appeared at last. Everyone in formation, Luna at the very last bit of the line. The boys told her to get in the line, she usually didn't. The sergeant stood in front of everyone and walked from the first in line to the last. He stopped in front of Luna. She was nervous.

"Ever had a gun in your hands, girl?" He said to her, with a big dumb grin.

They were one man short since the last fight. Might as well have a woman to fill the gap.

Her job was simple. There was a vehicle to be intercepted and seized. Small resources to take from the Vietcong, but any help was good for the glory of capitalism. The only thing she had to do is to receive a message, pass it to Uncle Sam, and watch the squad wasn't being followed by slanty-eyed demons.

She had a small handgun and a knife. "Just in case", the sergeant said. Nothing should happen, of course not, why think of that? Luckily, Chunk was there with her, holding a rifle, staying vigilant. His relaxed mood vanished, however, now he had a nervous face.

She felt the need to play the guitar. The sergeant let her bring it around, but she couldn't play it. It was there only as a safety blanket of sorts. She was between bored and anxious. She searched around the few boxes that were there. Mostly rubbish, but two paper tubes were found, with tobacco in them.

"We're in luck, mate!", she said, excited, showing the two cigarettes to Chunk. "Got a light?"

"God, do I need one of those" he mutters to himself, as he gets close to grab one.

He picked a lighter from one of his pockets and lit both cigars. Both inhaled deeply and held the smoke for a long while. Then exhaled, slowly.

Both kept smoking in silence for a little while. Both were tense. She was tense for being so close to the line of fire. He was tense for her. He felt responsible for her. Luna was sitting in front of the radio, looking out. Paranoia's a bitch.

Luna broke the silence, taking the cigarette from her mouth.

"I saw a boy that came from here back to the US…"

"Yeah?"

"He stepped on a mine. Barely survived. But he couldn't see, or hear… He lost his limbs. He barely could talk. The only thing the doctors managed to decipher from all he tried to say was… 'Kill me'."

"Bloody hell, girl, why…?"

"Let me finish, OK?" She insisted, as she inhaled more of that tobacco, and sighed. "I don't know why war happens. I don't like it. But that boy… I felt like I could help, just a bit. If I could stop another person from being imprisoned in their own body like that…"

Silence. Chunk saw her expression. Her eyes were getting watery.

"He died, I heard. God helped him out, or the doctor, I guess" she finally said, smoking a little more.

Luna wiped her eyes with her arm and sniffed. She tried to make it look casual like nothing happened, but Chunk could totally see her sadness.

"You knew that one guy personally, right?".

She didn't answer. She kept smoking, looking outside. Nothing in the distance. She couldn't, maybe. She almost opened her mouth to say something, but stood silent. The cigarettes were running out.

"Y'know, I had a little girl waiting for me back home", Chunk said, grabbing a box and sitting in front of Luna.

"Had?" She asked, turning back to him.

"The ex wanted custody. I wasn't there to fight back".

"But why, then...?"

"The silver, gal" He answered, with a bitter grin. "Your country has it right, really. Money moves the world. That kid was my world".

"So… what you gonna do, then?"

"I still have time left here. I don't know if to go back there. Maybe she's better now. I never had what she needed. Maybe she'll do now. Maybe I should leave".

"Where?"

"I've been thinking in the US. Americans have treated me right. I don't have anything left in 'Pool anymore either".

Luna looks at the radio, reminiscing her country. How long has it been already? Weeks, months? A year? That small town, Royal Woods. The place that saw her grow, the place she left for a "vacation" in a foreign land. It was a great place to live. It was home.

"Ya know", she said to Chunk, turning back to him, "if you go to America, you should come to Michigan".

"Is it a nice place?" He asked, curious.

"The best place. My home".

"That's great, gal".

"We could start a band, y'know. I played with some lads back then. Maybe they moved on. But I'd love to be on the road again, letting my music guide me…"

Chunk chuckles. Even if it was a light one, his grave voice resounded.

"That sounds great, gal, but I just look the part. I don't know how to play".

"Eh, you can learn. In the meantime, you can go with me, help out on the road. I teach you, and then we'll be rockstars".

"Groovy", He said, smiling, looking at Luna. She seemed happy now.

Both felt better. They felt relieved. Feelings are a heavy burden, even more so when the only thing you smell is the smoke of guns and sweat of soldiers. War tells you to never let your guard down. To have a heart is to be weak.

Suddenly, Luna looked at Chunk, making eye contact. She was still smiling, but her eyes showed one last baggage to lay to rest. One more thing to finally bury.

"He was my Lil' bro".

Chunk didn't know what else to say. That revelation was so sudden, and really he didn't know if he was right to ask. However, he wouldn't have much time to process that. Both Luna and him were interrupted with a buzz from the radio. Luna turned immediately to it, trying to decipher all that buzzing.

"Moongirl here, do you copy? over" she said to the mic, expecting a response.

There wasn't any. Just static.

"That's weird… Lemme check the signal…"

She started to twist and turn knobs, pressing buttons. Anything to get a better signal. Still, mostly static, until…

"There! I can hear something now. Moongirl here, do you copy? Over".

There wasn't any static anymore, but only silence. Suddenly, a pained breathing was audible.

"Moongirl to Blue Meanies, are you there? Over".

"...Run away". Communication ended.

Both Chunk and Luna's blood froze. The dread was taking over their minds. What in bloody hell happened? Suddenly, Luna felt a lot more thankful of the two hours of training.

"It's better we do that, gal" Chunk managed to babble, as he held the rifle tight and went to open the trapdoor. Luna was about to get into there, with her hand close to the handgun's holster. However, Chunk stopped her.

"Hey, I know, ladies first and all, but…"

Her heart was beating fast, like a racecar engine running. She tried to breathe deeply, calming herself down.

"You're right, I guess" She responded. "Be careful".

Chunk started to descend, slowly. When his feet touched ground, he pointed the gun everywhere, lest some vietnamese appear out of nowhere. Coast was clear, it seemed. He signaled Luna to get down, and she followed suit. They walked back to back to the barracks. They'd try to communicate to Uncle Sam there and get someone to take them outta Vietnam's arse before anything else happened. It was better not to think what happened to the rest of the squad. They had to get the hell out of there, that's the only thing that mattered.

Luna and Chunk saw them, lurking between the trees, in the shadows. The two pals weren't sure they saw them back. They just hoped for the best.

Hope, however, betrays.

Everything went faster than they could perceive it. Luna grabbed her gun, she got pushed behind cover, as Chunk opened fire on them. she tried to sneak a couple of shots, but wasn't sure if she got anyone. The vietnamese were eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three.

Suddenly, Moongirl was alone against them.

It was almost like in slow-motion. Time stopped the moment the bullet got to Chunk's chest. She didn't even get to know his name. She jumped over him, trying to make him react, but he couldn't do anything else. He looked at her, and tried to smile. Then he closed his eyes. They were going to have a band together. He'd be a roadie, learning the ropes of music, maybe. They'd live with rock and roll, live by it. They'd have fun together. They'd have, after going through hell, love and peace.

Forever.

Luna Loud couldn't cry. She couldn't feel anything.

There was still a full magazine.

She looked at them.

She grabbed the rifle from his dead hands.

She screamed.

Her heart now is painted black.

Luna wakes up, sweating, She looks everywhere in her room. She grabs the clock at her nighttime bed. Another night waking up from those nightmares at three AM. She tries to relax, getting out of bed, walking around. Luckily, she doesn't have to share the room anymore. The government haven't given much back to her yet to get an apartment, or anything. She came back without any glory. All that happened to her, never happened to Uncle Sam.

She stares at the flags in her wall. USA and UK together. She wonders if it's better to take them off. She sees her uniform over a chair. She wonders if it's better to burn it. She sees her guitar. It had something written on the back, at the bottom, in very tiny letters. She only noticed when she was coming back home.

"From Chunk to Luna".

She wakes up mom. She's playing the guitar. Mom comes to her room and sees her there, bathing in the moonlight, playing a rock tune.

"It ain't me, It ain't me… I ain't no fortunate one, no…"

Her voice crackles.


End file.
